Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Sweden and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Y Pants to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Groovy Waters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Man Eating Sloth,
DJ Style,
Mad Mike,
Blake Baxter,
Nation of Ulysses,
Radio Birdman,
DJ Sneak,
Nas,
Half Japanese,
Aural Exciters,
The Young Rascals,
Absolute Body Control,
Henry Cow,
Eddi Front,
Aloha Tigers,
These Immortal Souls,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Techniques,
X-101,
Ultra Naté,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Eli Mardock,
Young Marble Giants,
The Fuzztones,
Niagra,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Associates,
The Neon Judgement,
Chris & Cosey,
The Flesh Eaters,
Sandy B,
Masters at Work,
Supertramp,
The Residents,
Cameo,
Organ,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Junior Murvin,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Knickerbockers,
The Slackers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
ABC,
The Names,
Kas Product,
Country Teasers,
Black Pus,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Sex Pistols,
The Wake,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Malaria!,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.